==== Teos ====


They cast their eyes about warily, watching for any tell tale signs that their opponent was near. Several Veil, a pair of males and one female, and a huge Deatheater formed a loose defensive semi-circle around the altar.

They were so silent you could hear a pin drop.

A trumpeting roar issued forth from behind the Deatheater and they all span round in alarm, weapons raised and spells ready.

One of the Veil then doubled over and gagged. After a few minutes of retching, he managed to gather himself together enough to speak.

"By the Goddess, Wisp! Is that YOU?"

The Deatheater, Wisp, looked crest fallen, his shoulders sagged slightly as a fly buzzed around his half-chewed ear.

"Be silent," whispered the female, "They are near!"

And then from out of the bushes sprang forth two bundles of colour. Blue haired, tiny and terrifying, they charged at the group.

"Pika-CHU~!" They moved forward to attack the Furies, advancing in a deadly display of martial arts.

One of them sprang at Wisp in a forward somersault and delivered a fast flurry of blows upon his body, exhaling with the sound of "Chu~!" as each blow landed. It was all the Veil could do to stand and watch.

Wisp, however, was unfazed by the attacked, and swatted his assailant aside with one flick of an axe. The creature sailed through the air past its brethren and landed with a pitiful "ch.. uh... oooo".

The other creature looked back at its sister and then at Wisp. A mask of pure fury and hatred cascaded across its face.

Wisp took a step back.

Then the little horror was on him, claws a blur as the huge warrior battled to defend himself. The creature expended all its energy into the attacks, attacking first one way and then another, seeking some way past Wisp's defence, and then she found it.

A horrible keening sound erupted from Wisp's mouth and he fell to his knees, clutching his groin in a display of masculine pain.

It was all that was needed to break the confusion upon the Veil who then erupted into a cacophany of spells.

==== Unfinished (need sleep!) ====

This was really funny. Just one thing : Nordeins and Deatheaters are the same ( i think )

FangusOfForain wrote:

This was really funny. Just one thing : Nordeins and Deatheaters are the same ( i think )

Yeah ur right - making changes now

==== Destructive Magic ====

... the Furies stood in the aftermath of their destructive magic. The landscape for thirty feet in each direction was a wasteland. Small fires burned here and there, and an occaissional tuft of blue hair was seen to waft by.

As they congratulated each other on a job well done, Wisp looked at his comrades in turn, studying their features.

Ares, who had the distinctive number tattooes on each cheek, the left depicting 10 and the right 21. His healing magic had saved Wisp from certain death many times.

Nautica, who boasted a dexterity greater than the most supple of archers, had caused most of the desecration they now viewed.

Fanta, who looked like a female but was almost as masculine in disposition as any of them, made up the last of the quartet.

"No time for pleasantries," hissed Fanta "I see the banners of the Alliance coming over the hill."

As one they turned to look at the oncoming horde.

Nearly three dozen elves and humans were shambling towards them, shouting crude insults and jeering in hooting voices.

One of the Elves carried a long wooden stick with what may of been white panty-hoes dangling from the top, trailing in the wind.

As the wind blew in gusts, the banner was fully revealed, and the Furies saw the hated Alliance symbol, that of a love-heart encircled by blue birds in flight.

"So many!" Cried Nautica.

Wisp grunted in affirmation.

"We must hold here," said Ares. "The strategical implications of losing this altar are many fold. First of all it gives the Alliance a foot hold in our territory, which simply cannot be allowed. Secondly they could raid between as far as Raigo and Gliter at will, and you know how i hate being ambushed..." he was halted in his monologue by Nautica.

"Wait! I have a plan!"

They all crowded around Nautica.

"Ok. First of all, you" motioning to Wisp, "will charge in and distract the Alliance. Ares will keep you covered with heals and Fanta and I will destroy them with storms!"

It sounded like a good plan so Wisp nodded in acquiesence.

"And now," spoke Ares, "Let us prepare for BATTLE!"

They formed a circle looking inward on each other, and clasped hands in the center of it.

Together they shouted, "Teeaam Fail!"

Time seemed to pause as their warcry echoed from horizon to horizon. Even the birds ceased to sing and the four Furies felt invigorated with mystical strength.

Suitably prepared for battle, they set about their plan with efficient warlikeness.

Wisp stingered into the mob of alliance, hearing Ares murmuring magical words in the distance behind him.

A beautiful Human female was his first victim, blonde-haired head flying away in a crimson arc.

The second to fall was a brightly dressed Elf, hands still raised in a death-spell as he fell.

Then the mob reacted and Wisp felt the impact of swords smashing against his front, sides and back, and twig-like arrows peppering his armour.

Now would be a good time for the storms he thought.

Still, the blows rained upon him and he fell to his knees, axes raised in a defensive poise. His strength was failing and even Ares' magic was not enough to renew it.

Wisp couldn't feel much of anything any more, not even noticing the butchery being performed on him by the angry mob of Alliance.

He finally fell forward onto his chest, and dimly saw Nautica picking his nose. Fanta was sat down shouting something about "mana" but Wisp was no longer coherent.

All was darkness.

And then, he opened his eyes to see the most wonderous being he had ever laid eyes upon...

==== To be continued ====

==== Battlefields ====


[... as Wisp lay dying, similar tales were being told on the battlefield around the Alliance Fortress...

The Citadel of Light had stood for centuries. A bastion for the Alliance of Light and an unattainable goal for any Fury army that had ever camped outside its gate.

The Humans and Elves had always managed to hold here, even against impossible odds, and today was another page in the volumes of battles that had been fought outside its gate.

Above even the tallest of its parapets, a golden eagle flew, wings spread and eyes sharp in its search for food. It often found tit bits and morsels of food around the castle, so it made its home in the cliffs nearby and came there daily to see what could be found.

Today, however, the usually complacent beings who dwelled there were making a thunderous racket.

A large group of them were outside the gate of the castle, the eagle's sharp eyes picking out the individuals from the mob, waving strange sharp-looking objects that gleamed in the sun light.

Opposite them some dark and evil looking creatures that seemed foreign to the bird were also causing commotion. Objects were being hurled between the two mobs and screams of pain could be heard as they connected.

One of the foreigners detached himself from his fellows and seemed to be drawing much of the attention away from the rest of them.

The eagle was losing interest fast. What did it care what they were doing? It would fly to the forests and find some small mammal to feast upon. And so it veered off towards the lush forests in distant Iron Blood, leaving the strange creatures to themselves.

One of the eagle's feathers fluttered gracefully downwards towards the raging battle below.

Down and down it fell until a careless fireball exploded in the air and incinerated it.

"You dog-loving sons of wenches!" Mojo screamed. "I hope the Goddess takes a magical dump upon your heads and curses you with a bog-like stench for all eternity!"

He was at the forefront of the Fury army, shield raised in a defensive poise, he braced himself against the constant hammering of arrows and rocks like rain drops pelting the ground in a storm.

"Your mother's mother was a god da.." Smack. A tomato caught him full in the face.

Spitting the rotten pieces from his mouth, Mojo ducked his head behind his shield and barely managed to suppress a snicker as the infuriated Alliance focused upon trying to kill him.

The Alliance's attention was so focused on the guardian that they were not aware of the petite form behind Mojo, preparing a magical volley.

A huge explosion tore through the first rank of Elves and Humans, sending bodies flailing through the sky.

"Great shot, honey!" Mojo grinned back at his lover, Tessa.

She smiled knowingly in reply. She enjoyed the battles as much as he did, especially when their strengths as a duo came to the fore.

Even as she thought this, her hands moved deftly in another hailstorm of magic, and more cries of pain issued from the dwindling numbers of Alliance.

"Pagans concentrate your attacks on them!" Tessa shouted. "Together...unleash your power... NOW!"

Even Mojo flinched as he felt the backlash of energies as the magic collided with the unfortunate Alliance. The number of their fallen was staggering now.

Could this be the day? He thought. Could this be the day where the walls are brought to the ground and the citadel is no more?

How he wished it could be so.

The Furies, sensing their imminent victory, surged forward. Swords met axes, and the air crackled with the casting of spells.

The Alliance seemed too few to hold and looked set to crumble.

Then the clouds parted and a glorious shaft of sunlight shone upon an athletic figure clad in silver armour and standing upon a hill overlooking the battle. Golden haired and blue eyed, she held gleaming twin swords aloft.

Even from a distance, Mojo could see the richly worked ivory on the pommels and hilts. The figure seemed to emit a holy glow all around herself, and Mojo blinked as the sunlight caught him with a twinkle from the woman's brilliant white teeth.

Tessa seemed to sense Mojo's discomfort. "What's wrong, Mojo?" She began, but the breath caught in her throat as the blonde haired swordswoman soared into the air and came down into a sharp angled dive, swords pointed toward one of the Fury oracles..

The oracle looked up and began to scream "Save me!" but his throat was torn out by a singing blade before he managed to finish his sentence. Two more were dead before he even hit the ground.

Extreme had arrived.

Tessa screamed in rage and Mojo roared in defiance as they rushed to meet this new assailant and the tide of battle washed over them all...

Extreme too strong! And Hey where am I? I better not be the nameless orc who got his throat torn out.

No Ares you're currently visiting a town called Nocaps.

Great job sdu!!!

It would be awesome if the survivors of the blue haired Pikachus suddenly appeared and started fighting on the Alliance's side

FangusOfForain wrote:

It would be awesome if the survivors of the blue haired Pikachus suddenly appeared and started fighting on the Alliance's side

Yeah they're gonna make a reappearance for sure